


Elena's Interview

by purglepurglepurgle



Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Job Interview, Shinra Company, i have an odd sense of humour, idek what genre this is, inverted priorities, maybe very boring, pointless-details-as-an-aesthetic, romcom-satire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 18:27:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21166145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purglepurglepurgle/pseuds/purglepurglepurgle
Summary: A very detailed description of Elena's job interview for Shinra's Department of General Affairs.





	Elena's Interview

Elena steps into the Shinra lobby, and everything goes wrong. She's not used to her new heels; her ankle rolls; she lurches toward the floor and yelps, throwing a hand out against the wall. She juuuuuust about manages to steady herself, foot twisting painfully. Her hand smarts. Everyone is staring. She wants to cry.

She is at the Shinra building 30 minutes early for her interview, not that it matters after _that_ introduction. She won't be surprised if General Affairs send her straight home without meeting. And after all her effort! Her suit is pressed, her hair washed, her nails... okay, her nails are bitten, and she chipped the polish two seconds after applying it that morning. And now...

Four finger-spaced lines of rose-blush nailpolish streak along the lobby wall, marking the path of her hand.

She's tempted to walk straight back out again. But this could be her big break. So, she plasters a smile across her face and limps in, head held high.

It's a couple of hours since she originally reached the Shinra building; she didn’t go in then; she'd thought it would be creepy to look _that_ keen. She had pictured the receptionist's slightly raised eyebrows, and the fixed smile that would accompany the hammering of the panic button, and had thus hidden in a cafe. Of course, she'd instantly spilled coffee on her shirt (now she has to keep her black blazer buttoned), and now, the caffeine is swirling around in her veins, making her tremble. She's spent the whole weekend prepping, running through the potential questions in her head, and she feels so keyed-up she's fairly sure her blood would make a tasty espresso at this point. Her head's rushing. She got 2 hours' sleep, if that, but she doesn't _feel_ tired. Elena knows from cheek-scorching experience that this is a dangerous state to be in.

But she can't help it. This is it, her big chance. She was never expecting to get called in for interview. Her heart pounds. In a few weeks, she might be leaving spreadsheets forever. No more 'per my last email'. She's trying not to dwell on the fantasies, but her chest tightens as she remembers the glossy brochure that drew her attention in the first place. The blue suits. The Inter-Departmental Transfer Scheme. Of all the programs, General Affairs was the best-paid, and had the fewest concrete requirements. Most of the others wanted a degree. But General Affairs boasted of its own 'selective hiring criteria', and a _ridiculous_ salary, and one drunken evening, surrounded by friends egging her on, she sent off the application as a joke, and since then she's had a battery of IQ tests and odd personality quizzes, delivered in black boxes straight to her office desk with a SAE. It's broken up the monotony of the day, and Shinra is _paying_ her to complete the papers. Everyone else in her office is envious... and a little nervous. There are whispers about General Affairs.

'Whispers' vs 'customer service'?

She'll take the whispers.

So, Elena limps into the lobby. She's normally based in Shinra's secondary building, in sector 2, a whole lot less grand than the main HQ-- they say it used to be a pig farm, back when Midgar had animals-- but today, she's in the skyscraper itself! The _President_ is somewhere at the top! She's been here before, at the odd marketing event (free canapes), and she popped in briefly to give her details to HR on her first day, but if she plays her cards right, she might actually _belong_ after this. The floor glitters, reflecting the neon of the displays. Light music plays. The air-freshener reminds her of the upscale shops in Sector 5, where she and her friends used to spend giggly teenage afternoons pretending to be customers and raiding the free perfume samples. In a room toward the back, she can see the showcars-- they say they're worth _hundreds of thousands of gil_. And the famous glass lifts! She's always wanted to ride in one. They look SO futuristic.

Her heels clack as she crosses to the desk, very _very_ carefully. Yep, new shoes were _definitely_ a mistake. She can feel a blister forming on her left ankle. She notices her arms are shaking.

"How can I help you?" The receptionist's nametag says 'Aeris', pinned with an ornamental brooch to her sky-blue dress. She smiles at Elena. Her black hair is fixed with glittery clips, and her brown eyes are framed with blue-glitter eyeliner. Elena's wearing a black suit, with a white shirt, playing it as safe as possible, but now she wonders if she ought to be showing more of her personality with her clothes, making herself more memorable. Doesn't Scarlet always wear that red dress? Maybe people would think Elena was more senior if she wore something outrageous? One of those 'I'm so good, I can do what I like' kinds of things? But then, if she _mis_judged it... no, the suit is wiser...

"Um!" she suddenly realises she's been dithering. "I'm here for a job interview! My name's Elena!" She attempts a smile, and fears it comes out more jack-o-lantern than ingratiating.

"What department?" says Aeris, in a friendly way.

"Um, General Affairs..." Elena wonders if Aeris will waver at that, but she doesn't miss a beat.

"Brilliant, just a moment." Aeris’ smile is radiant as she makes a few clicks of her mouse. "Elena Brown? Floor 67. Take the elevator and you'll be right there. I'll buzz you through into their lobby."

"Thank you!" says Elena. She gives a genuine smile, this time. The caffeine-gods can take a hike, but she will swear eternal loyalty to the god-of-gracious-receptionists. She almost cries. She thinks Aeris might be the nicest person she has _ever_ met. She's tempted to tell her, but decides, perhaps in the nick of time, that this is sleep-deprived logic, so she walks away from the desk instead.

Moments later, she's forgotten all about Aeris. Her gaze is now lazer-focused. It is time. _The lifts_. She crosses the room, anticipation building.

They're out of order, of course. They knew she was coming. So she ends up taking the other, non-glass (;_;) lifts, the ones that are upstairs. It's a shame, but the moment they ping at the right floor, she forgets her heartbreak.

For there is a floor-to-ceiling window running across one wall. The sunlight shines through. She can see all of Midgar. It's _amazing_. She stares. The clouds shift before her. She is _taller than the clouds. _It’s like the articles in the weekly paper: those Cid Highwind travel columns about life on an airship. She never expected to see the clouds from above for herself. She wants to take a photo, but she decides she'll look too weird if someone comes past and sees. No, hopefully she can mention it to her interviewer, but she'll play that one by ear...

She forces herself to concentrate on the task at hand. There's a door up ahead, and she guesses Aeris must have her on a video feed, because a red LED changes to green as she approaches, and the door swings open. She enters the department lobby.

_Wow._

She can't believe this is an _office_. It looks like the kind of fancy hotel she's only ever seen in adverts. There's a cluster of blue sofas-- the blue of the suits!-- around a low table, glass-over-wood. Everything's gleaming. The chairs have _cushions_ (tasteful blues in paler shades, and the odd burst of orange). There's a vending machine on the far wall, stocked with snacks; some art hung at intervals, and a metal tree sculpture in the back corner. Elena knows nothing about art and sculptures, but she can tell those cost some serious gil.

There's nobody else in the room, and only two doors-- the one she just used, and a closed one-- locked, presumably; a red LED glows on the wall. She sees a slot for a keycard, and a numerical pad above that. No intercom. So she takes a seat on the sofa. It's incredibly squashy. A few seconds pass. She glances around. Still empty. Quick as a flash, she grabs a cushion, and hugs it, daring to give a quick 'squee' before quickly setting it down again in case someone comes through. But all is silent except for the aircon. She looks down at the table in front of her. There are some travel magazines stacked neatly in a corner-- today's date; do they replace them daily???-- and a bucket, like, a champagne bucket, holding lots of tiny glass bottles of water. She assumes they're there for guests, and she would _guess_ they're there for someone in her position, but even though her mouth is dry she's not _sure_ if she's allowed to take any and she's a total nobody so... Well, maybe they're for clients. She'd better leave them alone, anyway.

She hears shuffling footsteps approaching. She sits up straight. Now the moment is upon her, she feels blind panic.

A guy walks in. Or rather... ambles in. He's in the department uniform... kind of. It's the dark blue, the suit jacket and the trousers, but he looks nothing like the models she saw in the prospectus. His clothes are crumpled and torn and _dripping_, because they also happen to be covered in blood. He has long, red hair, the same shade as the blood, which gives the impression it's pouring right out of his head and into his suit. The hair's tied back in a scraggly ponytail, the front spiked up-- or maybe just uncombed, or bloodlogged. He drags his feet along the floor, leaving a trail of blood as he goes, not to mention bloody footprints.

Well, she's heard that General Affairs sometimes have to help with the Science Department.

He's peering at her. Elena gives him an awkward smile, leaping to her feet. "Hello! I'm Elena!" She holds out a hand, keen to make a good first impression on the man who must be her interviewer.

"Good to know." The man ignores her hand. He wanders over to the vending machine, turns out his pockets, swears, kicks the machine, then shuffles to the door. He noses around the card slot, then hits the pad a few times with his elbow. Nothing happens. "Say, your keycard work on this floor?"

Elena shakes her head, mortified. He’s just someone who happens to work there; what must he think of her assuming he was there _for _her? She almost sits down again, but stops herself just in time; that'd look even more stupid. "Um, I'm here for a job interview, the Shinra Transfer Program?"

"Ya don't say?" He looks her up and down, eyebrows raised. He runs a hand through his hair; it gets caught in the tangles. He shakes it out, grumbling. Red drops spatter the wall behind him. "Well, 'bout time we got some new blood. Good luck with it."

"Thank you!" says Elena.

The man takes a seat. Elena sits down, too, and tries not to notice the blood seeping into the sofa cushions. They wait in awkward silence for a few minutes. Elena has missed the window to make conversation, so she politely ignores him, while trying to look friendly and approachable, which amounts to keeping a vacant smile on her face and pretending to do things on her phone.

"What time's it start?" says the guy, suddenly. "Your interview?"

"Um, well, it was supposed to start at half 9."

"Gone twenny-five to," says the man, shaking his head. "That Tseng. Lazy sonovabitch. Sorry you have to deal with him. Fuckin' typical. This department is balls."

Elena laughs nervously. She doesn't want to criticise anything at this point; it could kill her chances. But she also doesn't want to brush him off. She's annoyed he's putting her in such an awkward position. She reflects that at least she now knows how to say 'Tseng'. She's only seen it written down, but that should be the name of her interviewer. "Mmhmm?"

"It's so fuckin' typical," the guy continues, warming to his theme. "Boss rakes me over the coals if I turn up 3 fuckin' seconds late, but when it's _him_, 'ex-ten-u-ating cir-cum-stances', AKA 'fuck you, I'll get there whenever'." He heaves a great sigh, leans over the table, smearing blood across the glass, and picks up a water bottle. Then he frowns. "No fuckin' bottle openers... fuck's sake..."

Before Elena can react, he lifts the bottle neck above the edge of the table, then smashes it down. Elena squeaks. The bottleneck shatters.

"_There_ we go." He takes a drink from the broken neck. When he pulls the bottle away from his mouth, Elena tries not to stare, but...

"Um! Y-your lip's bleeding!"

"Heh, sharp! I got so much regen workin' right now, I can't feel a damn thing." He shrugs, leans back in his seat, and puts his feet on the low table, knocking the travel magazines onto the floor. Elena notices small green sparks running up his legs as he continues, "Fuckin' hell, how long's he gonna _take_? I got places to be! I swear--"

He's cut off as the door opens.

"Reno," says a voice, "What are you doing?"

"Why the fuck you change the doorcode on me?"

"You've had four warning emails and I mentioned it in our last team meeting--"

"I missed that--"

"Because you overslept. Punctuality _matters_\--"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you can talk, keepin' a chick waitin'!"

"What?" The man notices Elena for the first time.

Elena has most definitely noticed _him_.

This man cannot be real. He is not the man of her fantasies, because she has never been capable of imagining this perfection. His _hair_, for a start. Real hair does not behave like a CGI render from a shampoo advert.

Tseng's hair _flows_.

"I apologise for the wait. Elena, right?" He holds out a hand-- manicured nails, smooth skin, _no blood_\-- and she shakes it. His grip is warm and firm and she is struggling to believe she can _touch_ him.

"That's right!" she stutters.

"I'm Tseng."

Elena is aware of this. There is nothing of which Elena is more aware. There will never be again.

She _will_ get this job.

Tseng gestures for her to follow him. Reno slopes after them, and they all head to the office door. Tseng holds his keycard up (perfect arm), and ushers them through, making smalltalk as they walk. "Was your trip okay?" His voice is low and delicious.

"Oh, yes, I live in sector 5, so I mean, it's not far, just a stop on the train, it really is great--" she's rambling, she knows she's rambling, she sounds like a train advert, but she doesn't know how to stop. "I mean, some places are further away, so some train journeys can be hard, but this one was a short journey because it's only one stop, and the stops are near each other."

"Yes, travelling is like that," says Tseng. She can't tell whether he's mocking her. She would not mind him mocking her. There are a number of things she Would Not Mind, and she's struggling not to think about them. Reno slopes off. Tseng leads Elena into a meeting room. A red LED on the wall indicates it's occupied; a scrolling display says TSENG 9:30-11:30. She's hoping they'll be alone together, her breath catching at the thought-- but inside, there's a bald, black man sitting at the table, also in a blue suit. He's wearing sunglasses.

"Elena's here," says Tseng, closing the door behind them. She forgets her disappointment at not being alone with him, in the pleasure of hearing her name in his mouth. He says it again, "Elena, this is Rude." He nods at the man. "You spoke with him on the phone."

Elena nods. She cringes at the memory. It was the most awkward interview imaginable, and she'd cried afterward, because she was sure she'd blown her chances. He hadn't said _anything_.

Tseng takes a seat at the table. He doesn't indicate a specific seat to Elena, so she picks one that forms a triangle with him and Rude. She hopes she's got it right and she hasn't accidentally snubbed either of them. There are closer seats to Tseng, but then she'd be further from Rude, and maybe it'd be _too_ close (_not that it's possible to get too close to Tseng..._), but then Tseng was listed as her main interviewer, so... She realises she's staring at him, and quickly moves her gaze around the room before he notices. She sees a box on the table, filled with more bottles-- sodas, this time: orange, lemonade, cola-- along with the water from before. Though in _here_, there's both still and sparkling, and she spots two bottle-openers.

"Would you like something to drink?" Tseng gestures. "Tea or coffee or..."

"Um, just water is fine!" Elena croaks. Her lips are even drier now.

Tseng passes her a bottle and the bottle-opener. She didn't know that it was possible to pass a bottle sexily, but it is. She worries that she's going to open hers wrong, somehow, and send water splashing everywhere, but fate's on her side. She reminds herself not to drink it too quickly-- bottles of water are great for awkward silences, and it gives her a place to put her hands; she doesn't want to guzzle it down and be left without a prop after five minutes. She _definitely_ doesn't want to choke... or spend half the interview needing the loo... "Thank you!"

"I'm going to get a coffee. Rude?" Tseng addresses the other interviewer. For a second, Elena thinks he's asking whether he's being impolite, but then remembers it's the man's name. Rude doesn't reply; he just picks up a bottle of sparkling water. Tseng leaves the room. As the door closes behind him, she's surprised to feel her stomach sink. It's an intense reaction, considering they've just met...

She realises she's staring after him, and tries to turn her attention to Rude instead. She has no idea what to talk about, but she doesn't want to look difficult to work with. "The office is really nice!" she blurts out.

"Mmhmm," says Rude, noncommitally. He opens his bottle with a pop. He says nothing more.

She tries again. "I met your colleague, Reno, I think?" She knows. _Why am I hedging?_ "He seems nice, too."

"He's not," says Rude.

"Oh, um, heh..." Elena is fairly sure he's not joking, from his tone, but she laughs nervously as though it's a sarcastic joke. She doesn't know what else to do.

Rude takes a long, slow sip of water, clears his throat-- and says nothing.

Tseng's gone a while. Elena and Rude sit in silence for almost fifteen minutes. Elena's starting to wonder if this is some weird psychological evaluation, Men-In-Black-style, when the door clicks and Tseng returns. Her heart leaps.

"Sorry about that." He takes his seat. He's carrying a coffee in a real porcelain cup, stamped with the Shinra logo. He turns to Rude. "Do we know anything about the Jenova project?"

"Not a thing."

"Excellent." Tseng turns back to Elena. "Forgive me, I'm getting back up to speed on various admin. I've been out of the office for a few weeks. Vacation unexpectedly extended by an assassination attempt. Broke a few ribs. It happens."

"Oouch," says Elena, sympathetically, sucking her teeth, pretending she has any idea at all what that would be like.

"Rude's been managing in the interim," Tseng continues. "So that's why both of us are here today." He stirs his coffee. As Elena stares at his hand, hypnotised, she notices the cup is sitting on a branded coaster! "So, has anyone told you the plan for today?"

The way he says it puzzles her. It's almost like he's hoping _she'll_ tell _him_. Rude also leans forward at this point, listening intently. "Um, no," says Elena, "They just said to get here at half 9 and not to make plans for the rest of the day."

Tseng nods. "Very well. We have this room booked for a couple of hours, but I don't think anyone else wants it." He glances at Rude for confirmation. Rude shrugs. Tseng nods again. "Well, they can find somewhere else. What I propose, then, is as it's getting close to lunchtime--" (it's 10:15am) "We'll talk, then we can show you around the office and you can meet people, see the sights-- you have the whole day off?"

Elena nods. She tries not to read too much into it, but if they're introducing her to people... they wouldn't do that for someone they weren't confident about, right?

Tseng continues, "Rude and I need to do handover this afternoon, so... enjoy your holiday. That's a shame, actually. If the timing had been better, we could have flown you out-- hm, that's a point. Do you have a pilot's licence? Helicopter, preferably?"

_What?_

Do they expect her to have one? How would she have one?! When would she learn to fly a helicopter??? Three months ago, she was working in a callcenter! She is _definitely_ not a millionaire, and if she'd gone to pilot school, she sure as hell would've mentioned it on her CV!

"Um, not at the moment, but it'd be really cool to learn!" She panics. If this is the kind of job where she's expected to just have a pilot's licence, then there must have been a mixup. It sounds like they're expecting someone WAY more experienced. Who the _heck_ has a pilot's licence???

Then Rude catches her eye. He gives her a small smile, almost a laugh. "Don't have one lying around?" He shakes his head, still smiling. She barely knows anything about him, but she can tell he thinks Tseng is being ridiculous.

She lets her shoulders relax, overwhelmed by relief. She smiles back at Rude, gratefully. "I'll check in all the drawers when I get home!"

"Well, we'll put you in training, either way," says Tseng. "But it'd be good if you could prepare in advance, see how far you can get with it."

"Yes, sir!" Elena gives a sharp nod. She has NO CLUE how one gets a pilot's licence, but Tseng doesn't need to know that.

"Going to lend her a chopper?" says Rude, pointedly.

Tseng ignores him. "It's a shame, though. I'm not due to travel for a month, otherwise we could've done this on a beach."

Elena laughs, not sure if he's joking.

"We'd put you up at the Costa hotel-- some of the rooms are rather... interesting, but the breakfast buffet is excellent."

Rude nods emphatically.

Tseng turns to him. "Oh, yes, you went last week. Did you try the salmon?"

"All of it." Rude looks very pleased about this. "Fresh bread, too."

"Good selection." Tseng nods. "And the cold cuts-- good variety _and_ good quality. Rufus has taken me to worse places."

"Rufus has shit taste in hotels."

Both men laugh.

"He's not his father," Tseng says, with a sigh, to Rude. Elena appears to have been forgotten. Tseng stretches back in his chair, sighs again (Elena wishes she could get that on video), and says, "Rufus phones ahead, you know-- checks if they do scent-branding. If they do, he refuses the booking."

Rude chuckles.

"It's good to be back," says Tseng. He finally seems to remember that Elena is there. "That's a point, how do you feel about travel? International travel, I mean. You're not scared of flying or anything like that?"

"Oh, nonono!" Elena shakes her head very very fast. This job will involve travelling round the _world_?!

"It can be hard, long weeks away from home. And there's no avoiding it in our line of work. You don't get much say over your destinations. Would that be a problem?"

"I love travelling!" On all of the two times she's been able to afford to leave the country.

"You don't mind hotel rooms?" Tseng probes. "I mean, we try not to go lower than 4 stars, we're not animals-- but it's not _home_."

_4-star hotels?!!!_

"That sounds amazing!" says Elena. "I'd love to see more of the world!"

Tseng looks pleased. "Some people do. Good." He doesn't make a note. He doesn't have a note_pad_. Neither of them do. There's just a single sheet of paper, which Rude is currently holding. Tseng continues, "I'm afraid I only took a brief look at your CV five minutes before this meeting, but I know Rude's looked in more detail-- so please interrupt if I cover old ground."

They ask a couple of questions about her previous work-- but nothing in-depth. They check her start-date and her proposed salary, and there's a strange, "Do you _really_ want to work for General Affairs?", but once she mentions her stint in a callcenter, Rude nods sagely and turns to Tseng with an "I told you".

"You've met people you wouldn't hesitate to kill, then." Tseng sounds satisfied. He reassures her that the General Affairs working environment is _much_ nicer.

"This is good," he says, at last. "We get a lot of strange types applying, but you seem normal."

"Ahahaha!" Elena laughs awkwardly.

They don't ask her any of the difficult questions she spent all weekend meticulously prepping for. In fact, 20 minutes in, they seem to run out of material.

"Another drink?" says Tseng. Elena takes a lemonade, this time-- not stuffy, but still professional-looking, hopefully. A cola might be a bit much. Rude takes a cola. Tseng disappears to get another coffee.

When he returns, it's quarter to 11. They sip their drinks in silence for a while. She admires the way Tseng's lips press against the lip of his cup. She would pay good money to be that cup. A clock ticks. She feels comfortably sleepy. Tseng glances at his watch, glances at the door. There's a long pause. "So..." he says to Rude, at last. "I hear you're learning cordon bleu?"

And they break off into a conversation about cookery. Elena gets the impression the pair of them are procrastinating from their day-to-day by interviewing her. She goes along, gamely. Every so often, they mention her role, and it's '_when_ you start', never '_if_'. She's trying not to get ahead of herself, but it really feels like they've already made up their minds and they just fancied a day of 'interviewing'. Tseng goes into great detail about his bathroom renovations (and he casually mentions that he spent most of the weekend on his hands and knees; Elena is not forgetting _that_ in a hurry). At one point, after one of the longer pauses, they start discussing their preferred _company coaster designs_. (Tseng likes the diamond-shaped ones, since the company logo can be centered exactly; he's annoyed with the one on the table because the logo is skewed 1mm to the left. Rude and Tseng agree that the ones Shinra used to make were better.) Tseng sighs-- that sigh, again!-- rubbing at a round mark on the tabletop. "What they really need is a coaster with a powerful magnet; then we can screw a block of metal to the bottom of Reno's cup."

"He'd drink straight from the tap." Rude says it neutrally.

"Fuck's sake." Tseng rubs at the mark some more, scowling ferociously; Elena shivers. Tseng continues, "He's just ruined the lobby, you know. Blood all over the seats. 3rd time this week. We'll have to get the covers changed." He sighs. There's a pause. Elena reckons she should ask something about the job, but her mind is blank; distracting Tseng-based fantasies aside, she got through all her questions half an hour ago. By this point, she's amassed a forest of empty glass bottles on the desk in front of her. Tseng is on his third coffee. Rude has conjured a packet of salted cashews into being; he offers her one every so often.

"Right," says Tseng, glancing at his watch. "It's 11:30-- we'll show you around and beat the lunch rush."

They take her through the offices. They are _beautiful_\-- but eerily quiet. Aside from the flash lobby, there's a main room, with glass desks and computers (and more sofas!)-- 15 or so, but Reno's the only person in there, skulking in a corner. Tseng and Rude don't even say hello to him. They lead her past several meeting rooms, through a hallway with glowing signs indicating the toilets, to another door.

"Shinra takes care of us," says Tseng, opening it.

Elena stares.

Inside, there's a soda fountain, two kitchens, and a pinball machine. All deserted. On one wall, there are bookshelves, stacked full. There's a table-tennis table. There's a _piano_.

Tseng leans against an artisan coatrack. "Bear in mind, you'll also have access to the gym on the 64th floor, and the company sauna."

"There's a sauna?"

"Three, actually."

"Hold out your hand," says Rude, as they pass a metal contraption with a flap at the bottom. Elena does, nervously. Jelly beans pour out.

"What?!"

"Infra-red," says Rude, smugly.

"There are beers in the fridge." Tseng points. "Not the best, but we’re working on it. There's also a medical supplies room, just through there." He gestures. "And the weapons store--" He opens the door; she catches a glimpse of a LOT of weapons, including what looks like... a railgun?! He pulls the door closed-- "And the magic store." Another door, another room; glowing materia in cases this time. "We'll go through the details another time."

"I-if I get the job, right?" says Elena.

"Oh, yes, that," says Tseng. He looks as though he's forgotten the context entirely. "Now, shall we get something to eat? Where shall we go?"

Rude shrugs.

Tseng turns to Elena. "Do you like burgers?"

"Um, me?"

"There's a good burger place nearby," Tseng explains while completely missing the point. "There are some kebab places, too, though, if you'd prefer that. You're not vegetarian, are you?"

"N-no."

"Good, we have enough of that nonsense with Rude."

Rude shakes his head with a sigh.

_Wait, for this job interview THEY'RE TAKING ME TO A RESTAURANT?!!!!_

"I-I'm sorry?" says Elena, certain she has misunderstood. "You want me to eat with you?"

"Did you have plans?" says Tseng.

_WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!_

"Oh, nonononono!" Elena gabbles, waving her arms. "I just wanted to make sure I was actually invited because otherwise that's like super awkward if I'm just tagging along like 'hey, where's the food at?' in my sunglasses y'know and you're like 'why is she following us?' and I’m all ‘BFFs forever!’, so, y'know, just wanted to clear things up!" She laughs. She wants to crawl underground and die. But she laughs.

"I see," says Tseng, face blank.

He and Rude lead her out, lead her into another tall building-- a hotel of some kind, but Tseng tells her there's a restaurant at the top. Every surface sparkles. They go up-- a working glass elevator! At _last_! She squeals out loud. Tseng and Rude show her into the restaurant. Her jaw drops. It _rotates_. The building is cylindrical; an outer circle revolves around a stable central column, where the bar is.

"It's mostly table service, but you can order drinks directly at the bar if you want," explains Tseng, showing her into a booth. He slides in after her. She's close enough to smell his cologne. She may explode. Rude takes the seat opposite. Tseng says something else, but Elena doesn’t hear, nodding on autopilot. She's in the window seat. For the second time that day, she can see out over the whole of Midgar; the reactors, the seagulls, the incredibly hot man next to her, _everything_.

Tseng passes her a menu. Moments after he does so, a waiter appears. Tseng orders a whisky, Rude a beer.

_Should I order alcohol? Is it childish if I don't???_

But she's not sure if she's allowed, and besides, the menu has no prices. And this place looks _dear_.

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit_

She does not eat in places like this. She cannot afford to eat in places like this. But she can't just order nothing. Do they have sandwiches? Her eyes flick across the page-- nope. Everything on the menu has at least 3 accent marks, and she knows how to pronounce approximately none of it. This place may sell burgers, but each one has an individual _sauce_...

For now, she panic-orders water.

"Very sensible," Tseng praises her. She almost faints.

"We paying our own?" says Rude.

Tseng shakes his head. "Lunch interview; it's a business expense. Shinra can get this one."

"I'm not paying?!" Elena blurts out.

"Not unless you want to," says Tseng, lightly.

The waiter comes back with the drinks, and takes their food order. Tseng's hand brushes hers as he takes his drink. Every muscle in her body clenches.

"To Shinra!" Rude and Tseng clink glasses, then start discussing handover business. Kidnappings come up a lot. She tries to look engaged in the conversation, but soon finds she can't get a word in edgeways. So she watches the city below as the restaurant turns.

"What's taking them so long?" says Tseng, suddenly. "We ordered some time ago."

"Fuck," says Rude. Elena follows his gaze. The waiter is returning-- out of uniform, and with a gun.

"Your lot killed my brother! Said he was with AVALANCHE! I swore I'd avenge him! Get ready to die, bluesuits!"

There is a shootout.

Afterwards, as Elena shakes, under the table, surrounded by broken glass and the smell of gunsmoke, ears ringing, Tseng pokes his head under. His hair frames his face gloriously.

"Still want the job?"

She pictures the callcenter, and nods.

**Author's Note:**

> elena narration is hard because every other sentence she's like 'did u know tseng is hot tho' and i'm like 'elena I am trying to describe a scene here' and she's all 'i like his elbows'  
(please let me know if that dimension is ultra unrealistic. am basically a garden shrub masquerading as a human, so.)


End file.
